


Take My Hand

by Scribbling Mama (melgibson87)



Series: AU August 2018 [14]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU August, AU Yeah AUgust (Miraculous Ladybug), Actress Emilie Agreste, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Emilie Agreste Lives, F/M, Fashion Designer in Training Gabriel Agreste, First Meetings, Fluff, Miraculous Fluff Month, Miraculous Fluff Month 2018, Party, Pre-Canon, Recognizing soulmate, Reincarnation, Soulmates, Young Emilie Agreste, fluff month, young Gabriel Agreste
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 09:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15682497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melgibson87/pseuds/Scribbling%20Mama
Summary: Reincarnation isn't something that Emilie had ever really considered possible before. When she experiences a weird sensation before attending a party one night, she soon realizes that reincarnation and soulmates do exist, especially when she meets Gabriel. He doesn't seem to have the same recognition though which is disheartening, but it doesn't stop her from spending time with him. If anyone can convince the young designer, it's Emilie.





	Take My Hand

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't realize I had the same pairing for both AU Yeah August and Fluff Month on Day 14. To make it a little bit easier on me and provide a better story for both challenges, I decided to combine them as they both cover Gabriel and Emilie Agreste. 
> 
> Here is their first meeting story. I hope you enjoy.

 

The party had begun with the typical exclusivity that Emilie had come to expect and resent as several gentlemen swarmed her. She couldn't handle the obnoxious mix of colognes as they assailed her from all sides. The men's over-exuberant jovialness should have been flattering and might have been if she hadn't learned to understand the undertones of the words they spoke to her. Frankly, they disgusted her.

She cringed as one bold man had the nerve to rest his hand on her lower back, his fingers not-so-subtlely moving down the bare skin downward. She wished she'd fought her father on this dress, hating how exposed she felt to these men.

She'd come to the party as she'd had a strange sensation something might happen. So far, that tingling sensation had proven a bust, only spurring her toward the wish to leave. 

Wrenching the man's hand from her back, she sidestepped the small grouping of men and made her way toward the refreshment table. She never made it as another man came along and swept her into his arms, propelling her onto the dancefloor. His arms encircled her waist and spun her around another couple, his smile cool and calculating as he'd gained the notice of other dancers due to her presence.

Tired of being a pawn, she lifted her foot during another twirl and brought it down hard on his foot. She made her escape as he cursed her for her clumsiness while hobbling in the opposite direction from the dancefloor. 

"Ugh, good riddance," she muttered under her breath. 

Determined to reach the food she desperately wanted, she almost missed the amused chuckle from a man watching her nearby. 

"You're a regular spitfire, aren't you?" the man asked, his amusement still creased over his features.

Wary of another leery man, she steered away further from him, her gaze still trained on the table overloaded with food. In her periphery, she kept him in her sights, wanting to ensure he couldn't pull one over her. She'd grown tired of the men at this party and she wasn't about to let another try and sweet talk into something she had no interest in.

"Not a spitfire, but I am irritated." She picked up one of the pristine white plates and began filling it with the delicacies the hostess had ordered. The expensive finger foods appealed to Emilie's rumbling stomach more than she cared to admit, having spent the majority of the day working tirelessly as her father's company representative.

"I have no doubt. I applaud you for the way you handled that cad earlier." Despite the man remaining where he'd been before, his voice sent a warmth rushing through her. She found it quite pleasing as he added, "You should try the madeleines. I don't what company our gracious hosts used, but I will be seeking out that information before I leave."

"So, you have a sweet tooth?" Emilie dared a glance at him then, a soft smile breaking out. 

When her gaze caught his, she almost forgot to breathe. That strange tingling sensation returned a thousand-fold. Fragments of memories, impossible ones, came to mind, flooding her with scenes between her and this man. She saw them wearing any number of different outfits, ranging from those of the early Romans to nineteenth-century high fashion. She'd almost believe them costumes if she'd met this man before. She felt certain they hadn't met in this lifetime yet she knew him. She wasn't wrong about that. 

He chuckled as he nodded. "It's one of my bad habits, you could say. What about you, Mlle?"

"Emilie. My name is Emilie," she said in a breathy whisper. Shaken, she set her plate on the table, giving her hands free rein to fidget in front of her as she waited for him to experience a similar epiphany. When his face remained impassive, she realized he didn't have the same recognition she did. 

How disheartening and unfair, she thought.

"Gabriel Agreste." He held out his hand to her with a smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Emilie."

She stared at his hand for a moment before turning back to the table. She couldn't handle touching him just yet, even if it meant offending him. Touching him would only cause more problems for her. The sensation of knowing him and the fragmented memories already threatened to overwhelm her. 

She sighed, realizing that she wanted to touch him though. She wanted to know what his hand felt like in hers. Was it warm? Did he have callouses? She liked a man with callouses on his hands. It meant he worked hard. The soft hands of the men earlier had unnerved and irritated her. They hadn't worked hard; they hadn't done anything to deserve the wealth they enjoyed, taking for granted the life they're born into.

She dared another glance at Gabriel and found him frowning down at her. She'd offended him, she realized a second later. She hadn't meant to, but she couldn't explain to him what she'd experienced. He'd believe her crazy. She felt crazy as the memories still tickled at her mind, reminding her of the love she shared with this man. Their souls had been made for one another. How crazy was that? She hadn't thought it possible before that night.

"I hope you enjoy your evening, Emilie. I'll leave you to your refreshments." 

He still hadn't made any more toward her, sensing her need for space after the earlier incidents with the other men at the party. As he prepared to create more space, she panicked and reached out for him, her hand stopping a few inches from his arm.

"Please stay. I apologize for being rude. I'm not myself, I think, this evening." Her words came out little more than a whisper as her gaze met his. She hoped he wouldn't leave, but she couldn't be sure as he remained silent for far longer than she thought possible.

When he moved, she started, her body jerking away on instinct. She grimaced as she caught the wary look entering his eyes. Oh, she hadn't meant to do that. Drats!

His hand closed around a plate from a pile close to him, flipping it so he could add a few foods for himself. 

"Would you mind some company? I know a spot where we could watch everything yet not be bothered." His words came out low and non-threatening. 

She appreciated that about him, nodding her agreement before picking up her plate. She watched as he took what he wanted from the table, grabbing two glasses of the cider being served. She smiled as she watched him expertly handle the two glasses in one hand, his plate in the other, while dodging other partygoers with ease. 

"How do you do that?" she asked as she sank gratefully into a chair at the table he'd chosen. 

"I've had plenty of practice, I guess. I work in a fashion house, nothing spectacular but the busy floor keeps you on guard." He bit into one of the petit fours he'd picked up, a small smile lurking at the corners of his mouth.

"You like fashion? Are you a designer?" 

He nodded. "I have high hopes of starting my own company of haute couture one day. I'm working toward gaining the capital now while also learning from one of the better designers in Paris."

"That's wonderful, Gabriel. I'd love to see your designs sometime." She blushed, rushing to add, "Oh, I didn't mean to sound so forward. I apologize."

His smile no longer lurked as it bloomed, transforming him into a handsome man. It simply stole Emilie's breath seeing it. Oh, she wanted to see it happen more often, sensing he didn't smile as often as he should.

"I'd be happy to show you," he said softly. His eyes had taken on a warmth as they gazed at her. "So, what do you do, Emilie, when you're not warding off unwanted attention?"

"I'm an actress. I haven't done anything major yet, but I've completed a few independent films. They've been received well enough and garnered a few new contracts for me." She took her first bite, her stomach having grumbled quite loudly at being ignored until then.

"I'm sure you'll find yourself the talk of Paris soon enough. You have something special about you."

Darn him for making her blush like a schoolgirl, she thought. In the most normal voice she could manage, she whispered, "Thank you."

They fell into an easy silence, enjoying each other's company as they finished off their plates and the cider Gabriel had thought to grab for them. 

Gabriel soon collected their cleaned-off plates and handed them off to a nearby busboy before turning back to her. "It was a pleasure to spend a few minutes with you, Emilie. I hope to see you in the future."

Not wanting him to leave, she pushed the words out before she lost her nerve. "Gabriel, before you go, will you share one dance with me?"

He froze, looking down at her with an expression she couldn't quite read. The warmth he'd shown her before had all but disappeared, leaving her with a man that she almost didn't recognize. 

"I don't dance."

"Why not?"

He huffed, his only indication he was becoming agitated at the direction of this conversation.

"Forget I asked. I shouldn't pry. I apologize." She stood, her hands cleaning the invisible crumbs from the tablecloth. "I'm just being silly, I think."

"What do you mean?"

She smiled as her gaze came to his, the blueness of his eyes calling to her as they appeared vulnerable. She hadn't expected that.

"I just thought it'd be nice to spend a few more minutes with you. Dancing would be a nice ending to our time together." 

He didn't answer again for several moments, his posture still tense as he battled his conscience. 

She wished she could see whatever was happening inside him.

An idea came to her, propelling to ask him, "Take my hand, please."

She raised her arm up to bend so her hand stuck out near his chest, waiting for him to accept or decline whatever she planned to propose to him next. 

He hesitated for a mere second before setting his hand in hers. 

The fragmented memories and tingling sensation came back full force as she'd feared yet she didn't despise them. They washed over her, filling her with a warmth that had her more certain and calm. Tugging his hand, she led him to a private balcony, pushing the doors open and stepping out. 

"Dance with me here. No one will be able to see us."

He nodded, his smile returning. "As you wish, Emilie."

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](http://scribblingmama.tumblr.com)


End file.
